Disabled Mafia Boss Fell Into the Lake and No One Dared to Help — Until the New Secretary Jumped In

They returned to the estate surrounded by a small army of heavily armed men. The mansion was put into immediate, total lockdown.

Emily sat in the study, her clothes smelling of smoke and gunpowder. Her hands were still shaking.

Santino sat behind his desk, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He looked exhausted, but his mind was working furiously.

“You saved my life again, Emily,” Santino said quietly, staring into his glass. “Twice in one month. That is highly unusual for a secretary.”

“I just reacted, sir.”

“You hit a trained assassin with a fire extinguisher,” Santino noted, looking up at her. “You do not panic like a civilian. Who are you, really?”

Emily’s heart hammered. She was trapped. If she lied now, he would know.

“I am a woman who is tired of watching people she cares about get hurt,” Emily said, choosing her words very carefully.

Santino studied her face, searching for the lie, and found none.

“Rafe claims the Morrettis must have intercepted my digital calendar,” Santino said, changing the subject.

Emily took a deep breath. It was now or never.

“It wasn't a digital interception, sir.”

Santino’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.”

“Last night, I couldn't sleep. I walked down the hall to get water,” Emily lied about her destination, but not the event. “I heard voices near the library. Victoria and Rafe.”

Santino went perfectly still. The silence in the room became heavy, suffocating.

“Continue.”

“Victoria said you were weak. She said the families saw it. She told Rafe that it was time for a change in leadership, and that it needed to look like an accident. Or that someone else needed to take the fall.” Emily swallowed hard. “She told Rafe to get her the keys to Warehouse Four to pay the mercenaries.”

Santino didn't explode in rage. He didn't shout. He simply closed his eyes, a profound, agonizing sorrow flashing across his face before being replaced by cold, ruthless mafia logic.

“My own blood,” Santino whispered.

He opened his eyes and looked at Emily.

“The pool,” he murmured, connecting the dots in real-time. “It wasn't an uneven flagstone. Someone loosened it intentionally. They knew my routine. They knew I parked my chair there every morning. They wanted me to drown.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you ruined her plan by jumping in.” Santino leaned forward, his eyes burning with dark intensity. “That is why she wanted you transferred. That is why Rafe threatened you in the billiards room.”

Emily nodded.